


those eyes, damn, those eyes

by timedork



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Everyone is a gay mess, F/F, Yaz Is A Gay Mess, Yearning, bc whats the point in having a gf, contains glasses and hands, if u don't write her something with her kinks in it, thirteen is a gay mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timedork/pseuds/timedork
Summary: “Uh, Yaz, could you lend a hand?” The Doctor’s voice floated around from the opposite side of the console, sounding slightly strained. It was the first thing beyond distracted mutterings that she’d said in over an hour.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 73





	those eyes, damn, those eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [13stardisfam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/13stardisfam/gifts).



> this is deadass the most i've written in a year. happy girlfriend day, nerd.
> 
> (title from fred astaire by jukebox the ghost. it's a bop.)

“Uh, Yaz, could you lend a hand?” The Doctor’s voice floated around from the opposite side of the console, sounding slightly strained. It was the first thing beyond distracted mutterings that she’d said in over an hour.

“Sure, what with?” Yaz replied as she turned the page of her book to the last of the chapter. She was hoping to finish it before getting drawn into the Doctor’s TARDIS maintenance shenanigans for the next few hours. Not that she minded when that happened - the complete opposite, in fact. She loved spending time with the Doctor. That was why, instead of settling herself down in her own room or the library with the book Sonya had been pestering her to read for months, she’d opted to drag one of the rainbow-patterned beanbags all the way from the games room to the base of one of the crystal pillars and keep the Doctor company.

“Um - well - “ the Doctor said, sounding more embarrassed than Yaz had ever heard her before, and it was enough to pique her curiosity. She stood, dropping the book onto the beanbag, and rounded the console.

The sight that greeted her had her snorting in amusement. “Look at the state of you!” she crowed.

“Yaaaaaaaaz!!!” the Doctor whined. She was pouting, and Yaz had no doubt that her eyes had gone all round and puppy-like. It was hard to tell, because she was wearing her thick-framed glasses today (that Yaz loved perhaps a _little_ too much) and the lenses were completely obscured by a viscous liquid. It was on her face and clothes too, and as Yaz watched a rivulet of the liquid trickled down her cheek and clung to her chin.

“What on Earth did you do?”

“I was stripping wires but I got a little overexcited, accidentally nicked one of the fuel lines, and - well - _fwoosh!_ ” The Doctor puffed her cheeks out, imitating an eruption of sorts. Her hands were still buried in the guts of the console, clamped over each end of the cut line to prevent any further leakage, Yaz supposed.

“I can fix it though!” The Doctor continued. She jerked her head at the toolbox at her feet. “Need you to pass us the universal welder, it’ll fuse the ends back together so it’ll be right as rain! Should be in the right compartment - looks like a tube of Smarties attached to a turkey twizzler.”

“How do you know what one of those looks like?” Yaz asked as she bent down to rummage in the toolbox.

“Taught in a school once. And then I was a caretaker another time. I don’t know why school dinner’s get such a bad rap, y’know. Well - the chips maybe, if they’re cooked in an oil that effectively turns the entire school into a supercomputer capable of solving a paradigm that would allow you to shape the whole universe.”

“.....right.”

“Miss the potato smileys though,” the Doctor finished wistfully. “And the jam roly poly.”

“I was on packed lunches.” Yaz’s hand closed round the necessary tool, and she straightened back up.

“Ahh, thanks Yaz! Ten points to you.” The Doctor beamed that wide smile that made Yaz’s insides turn into jelly. “Right. That is a highly technical piece of equipment, and no offence but I don’t trust you to use it without welding your hand to the TARDIS. She’d be right miffed if that happened.”

“So would I,” Yaz said.

“When I say so I want you to clamp your hand on this.” The Doctor nodded at one of the ends. “Then that’ll free up my hand so I can use the welder and fuse them back together. Then we can go and have a cup of tea and a biscuit or five.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yaz smiled.

“But first, could you. Um.” Was it Yaz’s imagination or were the Doctor’s cheeks slightly pink? “Could you clean my glasses for me? I can’t see anything.”

Yaz suddenly felt like her heart was in her throat, struck by how….intimate the request seemed. _Pull yourself together, you disaster,_ she told herself sternly. _Stop with the gay panic._

“Yeah, sure,” she eventually managed to get out. She took a step closer - from this distance she could make out the little laugh lines framing the Doctor’s mouth, the unevenness of her top lip, her - _for crying out loud, Yasmin, pack it in!_

Her hands went up to each side of the Doctor’s head, blonde hair brushing against her knuckles. Surprisingly soft for someone who had probably never seen a bottle of conditioner in their long life, Yaz couldn’t help but note. She carefully took hold of the glasses’ arms and lifted them away from the Doctor’s face. There. Step one complete without her melting into a puddle of gay goo. _Good job, Yaz._ She snatched up the (mostly clean) cloth from the toolbox and started cleaning the glasses.

The Doctor blinked like someone stepping out into sunlight after spending an age in a dark cavern. “Oh, that’s much better! Fuzzy, but better.” 

Once Yaz was satisfied that the glasses were clean she carefully slid them back onto the Doctor’s freckled nose, adjusting them so they weren’t crooked. 

“Perfect. I missed seeing your face, Yasmin Khan.”

Yaz’s heart did the funny little flip-flop it often did ever since they’d dealt with the giant spiders.

“One sec.” Feeling bold, she took the cloth and dabbed at the smudge on the Doctor’s chin, and then tossed the rag side. “There, now you look somewhat presentable.”

The Doctor stared at her, eyes slightly magnified by the now pristine lenses. Yaz stared back, captivated by the colours swirling in those irises, colours she’d never noticed until now; green, amber, gold, ochre.

The Doctor coughed, and the spell was broken. “Thanks,” she said, sounding slightly strangled with cheeks even pinker than before. Who knew Time Lords could blush?

Yaz decided to not look to closely at why she might be so red-faced; it would do her no good to get her hopes up. Probably just exertion from her repairs.

“No problem,” she said awkwardly, suddenly unable to meet the Doctor’s gaze. Instead, she focused on the console. “We gonna sort that out now?” 

“Oh - yes!” the Doctor answered, sounding like she’d somehow completely forgotten that she was elbow deep inside the workings of her ship. “Just wrap your hand round that.”

Yaz did as instructed, trying to ignore the way the side of the Doctor’s cool hand brushed against her own. It lingered a moment longer than necessary, before the Doctor let go and flexed her fingers to get the feeling back in them. She took the universal welder from Yaz’s other hand, positioned the two ends of the fuel line together, and with one simple press of a button, joined them back together.

Yaz’s eyebrows lifted. “A highly technical piece of equipment, huh?”

The Doctor coughed slightly, caught out. “Sorry. You know boys and their toys.”

Yaz huffed a sigh, but there was no real exasperation behind it. “Should we get that cuppa now? Might even let you have a couple more custard creams than usual for all your hard work.”

“Definitely! And you can tell me all about that book you were reading. You seemed pretty engrossed.”

The realisation that Doctor had apparently noticed what Yaz was doing despite carrying out a task that had required her full attention made a warmth spread across Yaz’s chest. A tiny hopeful part of her brain wondered if the Doctor being distracted by her presence had been what really made her accidentally cut that line.

“Only if you tell me more about that school.”

“Deal.”


End file.
